


The Apartment

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Banter, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Henry-centric, M/M, Moving In Together, Nerdiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Henry is moving into Balthazar's apartment, and has some design thoughts.





	The Apartment

Henry set the last of the boxes onto the black tile floor and righted himself back to his full height, wiping his brow. Heavy lifting in Los Angeles in the middle of July wasn’t the brightest decision Henry had ever made, but ultimately, it was worth it. He was moving in with the love of his life.  
“Why, again, didn’t you hire movers?” Came the voice of Henry’s boyfriend, Balthazar.  
Balthazar held some sort of colorful drink with a raspberry stuck on top, presumably alcoholic. He _did_ love his cocktails, after all, no matter how much he pretended that he only drank wine or whiskey.  
“Because why spend money on something that, ultimately, you can do, yourself?” Henry supposed. Balthazar hummed, thoughtfully.  
“You and your frugality. It _is_ quite admirable. And more than that, it got you all sweaty and worked up. You know how I like that.” Balthazar purred, walking up to Henry and giving him a quick kiss. In that split second, Henry swiped Balthazar’s drink from him and took it away. “I was drinking that.” Balthazar said, almost offended, once Henry had walked away.  
“And now you’re not.” Henry shot back, taking a sip at the end of his sentence. Balthazar let out a laugh, surprised.  
“Touché, darling.” Balthazar surrendered. “Would you like to start unpacking?”  
“Oh, you know I would.” Henry agreed, finding the nearest available coaster to set his drink on. It was Balthazar’s one bad habit, yelling at people if they didn’t use coasters. If that was as bad as it got, Henry would deal with it.  
Henry went to the box labelled “books #1”. It was by far the heaviest box, and it took both of them to lift it. There was a second book box, but that was the paperbacks.   
“I know you too well. I knew you’d go for that one, first.” Balthazar said.  
“I’m remarkably predictable, you’ll find.” Henry added. Though it was evident on his face that he wanted to, Balthazar didn’t argue. Instead, as Henry grabbed his first edition of _The Hobbit_ , Balthazar took Henry’s free hand and led him into another room.  
It was the living room, one Henry had been in too many times to count. But there was a new addition to it. An entirely empty bookcase, brand new.  
“You shouldn’t have.” Henry said, smiling at the shelf.  
“I won’t have your beautiful books being stacked every which way. They have to have a proper place.” Balthazar explained. Henry pecked his cheek.  
“I love you.”   
“I know.” Balthazar shot back. Henry raised an eyebrow, playfully.  
“Don’t you ‘Solo’ me, Milton.”  
“I live to push your buttons, Winchester.” Balthazar teased.  
“You do it too well.” Henry responded, putting his book on the shelf. Naturally, the first book on the shelf had to be Tolkien. To Henry, such a thing was akin to Christening it.  
It took him four trips to be able to lift the box on his own without pulling a muscle, but it had to be the first order of business, no exceptions. He filled up the shelf in what had to be record time, stuffing the remaining paperbacks that he couldn’t fit normally, despite his best efforts, in any place he could fit them, entirely throwing away his careful system.  
“Perhaps one bookshelf wasn’t enough.” Balthazar piped up from behind Henry. Henry turned to him and smiled.   
“It isn’t the most aesthetically pleasing, maybe, but it’s how it is. Much like this rug. White fake fur, really?” Henry pointed at the rug under the coffee table, a thorn in his side since the first time he laid eyes on it. It was one of the decorations in his boyfriend’s apartment that had always irked him.  
Balthazar raised an eyebrow at him.  
“Surely you’re not serious.”  
“You’re right, part of that isn’t true. A bookshelf is always beautiful.” Henry teased.  
“Would you care to inform me if anything else isn’t up to standard?” Balthazar mocked, just a bit. Henry ignored the tone.  
“I thought you’d never ask.” Henry leapt onto the invitation. “Your style is quite impeccable, I give you that, but the aesthetic makes you look like the sad bachelor villain of a James Bond movie. And while you’d play that part quite well, that doesn’t fit, does it?”   
“It did when I moved in. Not since I met you.” Balthazar gave a smile as he spoke. Henry resolutely ignored the flirting and pressed on. He walked over to a shelf that held miscellaneous objects. Candles, the occasional CD or DVD, bits and bobs that Balthazar used often. But on top was something Henry didn’t exactly care for.  
“What are all these chromatic statues? What purpose do they serve? They don’t even have a history about them.” Henry picked up a silver sphere that wasn’t a secret box or tin of any sort. It wasn’t a stress toy, to his knowledge. “Where did you even get it?”  
“I don’t know. I just woke up one morning with three strangers in my bed, a mighty hangover, and that on my shelf.” Balthazar answered, almost immediately.  
“I should’ve guessed.” Henry set it back down, giving it a final glare. “And some of the things on your walls, they have no personality. They come from a stock photo.” For a moment, Henry thought he went too far. But Balthazar just grinned at him, a loving gleam in his eyes Henry had seen many times over.  
“Perhaps. There’s one wall decoration I think you’ll quite approve of. The rest, you can change.” Balthazar hinted, ducking down the hallway. Henry, entirely intrigued (Balthazar _did_ know how to push his buttons), followed him, and stopped directly beside him, following his gaze.  
Henry found himself beaming at the decoration. “You were right. I do approve. Quite a lot, actually.”  
They were staring directly at a framed photograph of the both of them, at the wedding of Balthazar’s brother. They were on the dance floor, and Henry was laughing at something Balthazar had said. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember what. There’d been so much laughter since.  
Balthazar put his arm around Henry’s shoulders. No words needed to be said.

  
Some things changed around the apartment, with Henry moving in. The rug beneath the coffee table had become a handmade rug from the 1920s that Henry simply couldn’t part with. The strange objects on Balthazar’s shelves were replaced with little antiques, here and there. The flat walls with generic decorations gave way to chalk boards with reminders, paintings that were both bought and made by Henry, and yet more pictures of their lives together.  
But some things stayed the same. Henry greatly enjoyed some of Balthazar’s style, and vice versa.  
It was a home for two people. And it showed.


End file.
